A Deserter's Lance
by Shinlee
Summary: She's a princess. He is a knight. They meet. They're in love. Their hearts united. But fate is not; it is collided. Complete.
1. Part 1: Burning

A/N: I'll start from the very beginning.

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is not mine~XD

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**A Deserter's Lance**

**Part 01: Burning**

It was a rough afternoon. The sun looked like a fire ball shot by Vulcan himself, that burned everything without hesitation, including his body. The heat had not only obliterated his body, but also his soul.

_I have no place to stay._

He knew he couldn't turn back. He felt the bitterness of the cold sky attacking him suddenly, something that he could stand it no more.

"Go on!! We'll cover you!"

"But…"

But he couldn't continue. He told his Hyperion to fly lower and dive. He strengthened his lance-grip, his eyes were as sharp as an eagle – or at least he tried to be so. His lance swung as if a ravenous eagle that hunted over its prey.

_Actually, how many men are chasing us right now? _

He was terribly exhausted, so was his wyvern, Hyperion. A paladin with silver lance on his hand suddenly came up, stroke him from front. "Eat this, you traitor!"

He barely managed to escape. He considered himself lucky though he couldn't do even a single counterattack. Almost fell down the wyvern he touched his bloody arm and felt his blood shed. Hyperion shrieked loudly, worrying its master for sure. But the master, the exhausted wyvern rider, worried it more. The paladin was about to strike him again.

_I'm done. Forgive me, My Prince._

"Let's get outta here! Take my arm."

A sudden scream made him open his eyes. No… he didn't die. Not yet. Another wyvern rider grabbed his arms without waiting for his answer. He took the exhausted rider to his own wyvern.

"Are you okay? Hold on!"

_I'm saved._

"Don't worry. You know I can stand some scratches," he answered firmly. He made a single long whistle and Hyperion came to him. He didn't know where it from, yet how could his wyvern answered his call that quick. Nobody had such golden chance to chitchat even asking one's condition. A fierce battle, more than that. The ones who would probably survived the battle were those who thought fast, acted fast. The sound of clanking lances also enough for them. It was a signal… an important signal that the enemy was still on their way, wanted them die.

When the chance arrived he hopped on Hyperion in a sec. The wyvern was shrieking again, welcoming its master. He smiled to his comrade – just thanking him. "Go," said he, "my lance already reached its limit!"

"Then take mine," his comrade passed a steel lance to him.

"Isaac, you shouldn't –"

"Heath, you are the one who _shouldn't _fight without weapon," Isaac, his comrade, debated him. "We are wyvern knights. We have our lances in our right arm and reins in another arm… well heck, whatever!"

"… thanks," he answered. But the next scene made him wanted to swallow his thanks. It happened only in few seconds – an arrow hit from somewhere far from there, damaging Isaac's right hand, followed by heavy arrow rain, trapping Isaac and his wyvern with no escape.

"Go!!" Isaac yelled at him. "Go now before it's too late!! Shit, ballistae…"

"Isaac, I can't leave you!!" he yelled back. "Hang on…" he pulled Hyperion's rein hardly, commanding the wyvern to turn back. But Hyperion shrouded in doubt – also scared. No wyvern dared to challenge a sniper – especially from front – without a Delphi Shield.

"What are you doing? You'll just get yourself killed!" another wyvern rider chased him, enclosing him from the right side. He was covering him from the arrow with his lance.

"Lachius!!"

"Damn sniper, you son of a…" the second wyvern rider that enclosed him from the left side threw his short spear which killed the sniper who attacked them with his ballista. But their pursuers, also wyvern rider squads, made the second wyvern rider busy. It ended so fast… faster than the touch of the breeze. Heath just glared at those two friends of his with an unbelieving gaze.

"I've told you to go…" Lachius said with his dying breath. He smiled… "I'm done."

_He said he was done for._

"Get out, Heath. You are the only hope. Get out!!" Belminade, his other companion also the second wyvern rider that defend him from arrow rain, tried to make his way with his last strength. "We are knights. We will fight no matter it is!!"

_Belminade also…_

"Noooo!! I'm going with you!! I'll be there in no time, Belminade! Isaac, Lachius!!"

"Heath!! Get a hold on yourself, you stupid boy!" a woman's voice pierced his ears. A very firm, loud and charismatic voice that felt so familiar to him. His commander whose name was Vaida never showed her feminine side; harsh to her men, taught him and his companions so discipline that no one ever imagined.

"Commander, I can't leave you here…"

"Leave me? You won't. Because I'll leave _by myself. _And so will you, boy."

"Do you mean you will –"

"Clear the way for you? Who on earth are you so I'll do that to you?! ... no, I'll show you how to kill, Heath," Vaida, the wyvern lord, flew through the sky.

Heath knew what _actually_ Vaida meant. The commander was feeling guilty, because she thought that it was her who made the entire squad be branded as traitors. "Commander, I'm your soldier. I'll go wherever you go, and I'm not afraid of death."

"Stop being a crybaby! I never taught you to act like that. Behave yourself, boy!! Keep going! We'll reach the border in no time. Don't hold back, keep going!!"

"Commander!! Commander… no!!!"


	2. Part 2: Glowing

Heath gazed to the stars. So bright and shiny, he felt his mind wandering somewhere. That day again, he thought.

He even didn't remember how he managed to reach the border of his beloved country. Bern… a country where he born, lived and knighted, where he swore his oath to serve Prince Zephiel, the son of King Desmond. The young Prince Zephiel was young and talented, perhaps that made the old lion—King Desmond—despised him.

Heath knew something was about to happen when he heard the news about Zephiel nearly being assassinated before his fifteenth birthday. But who cares? The royal family intern issues were none of his concern; if he should concern something that would be their safety.

_My duty is to serve. That's it._

He loved this 'journey' too much. Rambling. Ranting. Cursing. Praying. Hoping… for what? He was branded as a traitor. Nothing more shameful than that. He was a knight, yes, but he ran from the battlefield, letting his commander covered him. He let his comrades died. Nothing left, he thought desperately.

A tap on his shoulder brought him back to reality. "What are you looking at, laddie? Stars?"

"It was nothing," he turned his face. He ended up here, crouching before a campfire along with this mercenary group led by Eubans, a loyal warrior devoted to the state of Lahus and her lord, Darin, after spending some days to recover himself somewhere on hill top, alone and lonely. Later he remembered that he told Hyperion to do an emergency landing, some seconds before everything went black and he collapsed. He woke up, seeing his wyvern as exhausted as him, wounded as well. As a Bern's special squad soldier he knew well how to treat the wound, so he healed Hyperion first and went to get some rest. After done with his wound, he wandered alone, without destination.

_I have no place to stay; for that I will go. But I promise I'll be back to Bern soon._

Hungry and understood how hard his path will be, this young wyvern rider began to look for a job. He would need some money for this long journey. He would need some to equip himself with fine lances or a Delphi Shield to reach Bern since wyvern riders were so vulnerable to arrows. He went back to his temporary camp with empty-hand, gazing at the stars, remembering Isaac's last words.

_We are knights. We will fight no matter it is._

"I'm a knight," he repeated the sentence, "and I will fight." Soon after he understood that was absolutely true – he _was_ a knight and there was nothing he could do besides to fight. Now he worked for Eubans. Living as a mercenary seemed to suit a deserter, but he felt numb as if he already sold his soul to the devil. The warrior Sealen, feeling Heath was an extraordinaire simply enjoyed Heath's doubt and sorrow with amusement. Cynical, of course.

_What were you hoping, beautiful knight. In the end you would be like us._

"Then tell me other places to go, Sir," Sealen, the one who tapped his shoulder, answered, mocking him with the title as always. "I'm a Sacaean knight, and I will fight. You are no ordinary person, right? I can tell."

"… is that because of my outfit?" he watched himself, The armor, the Bern's crest on its chest.

_Darn. I should get rid of this from the very start._

"I am indeed a Bern native," he continued.

_Am I? Well yes. A deserted native, brings nothing but disgrace._

"No. Outfit means nothing to me, lad. Your eyes told me."

_The eyes. What does this man see within my eyes? Can he s"pot the anger, disappointment, or anything inside? How does it look like? _"… wait."

"Huh?" Sealen turned his back.

"I want to join you. I'm a knight, I will fight."

Sealen grinned. "You mean 'fighting', not 'join'. You are here already."

Eubans glanced. _The dragon finally awakened, huh? _"Lord Eliwood is dead meat. C'mon. What does that lance for! Living as mercenary is like sleeping on a bed of roses."

_This lance?_

_Well, I am knight, therefore I will fight._


	3. Part 3: Approaching

A/N: I'd like to thank you guys for reading, reviewing, and correcting my typo (that Laus-Lahus thing). What is an author without readers? ^^

**Part 3: ****Approaching**

"Okay, that should do," she smiled cheerily and put her Mend Staff on the ground. The knight in green armor smiled back, blabbing _a hundred _thanks and apologies for being such trouble and then telling her how kind she was. She was about to reply "thank you," but the knight then continued to announce how divine, superb, magnificent, marvelous, she was. She stared at him blankly not knowing what to say, but her modest answer "you are flattering me," was returned by "who on earth will refuse such treatment from a beauteous one?"

Her face turned red and the knight was gone after hand-kissing her. She sighed. So much for one time healing, she thought to herself. She knew Sain was a womanizer—his words were sweet and he always knew how to please a girl. But Sain's 'sudden attack' just beyond her 'guard'.

She didn't feel intimidated by Sain, just surprised. She never met a man that would be so forward—except some rogues, perhaps. She never thought that she would be _this _beautiful, but every man belongs to Lord Eliwood's army would tell her that _she is. _She didn't need to "mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?" because everyone at her surroundings would tell her even if she didn't ask for it.

But she admitted that she wanted to try once. Talking to the mirror, asking whether she was beautiful or not. Nobody knew it was loneliness that hid behind such beautiful face. People adored her for her beauty, not knowing she was actually a complex girl indeed. Suffering from losses—no more castle, cast away from her homeland, no parents to lean on everytime she felt tired or didn't know what to do.

Priscilla was adopted by Etrurian noble; thus making her the princess of Caerleon. She was strong.

"Thank you Lady Priscilla, you are a great help," Lord Eliwood bowed in courtesy when she walked past him.

She smiled. "We are comrades, are we not."

Lord Eliwood smiled back. "Yes. And having you in my army is the best part."

She gave him and adieu and returned to her tent. Everyone was sitting before the campfire, chatting, discussing military tactics, or even training their fighting techniques. She looked at her Mend Staff, thinking how could people told her about she being useful in the army while she didn't even know how to use a sword. She was protected, everytime they battled. She was in the back line. She supported them.

_Isn't it me the one who should thank them actually?_

She loved to sit here for she couldn't bare to stare at the campfire. Her fallen castle, her deceased parents, screams, blood, sound of lances and swords. Time went by but she still able to picture those memories on her head. The head which covered by sweet silky raven hair.

"Milady Priscilla," she heard someone calling her name.

"What is it, Erk?"

The mage studied her face. "I want to know whether my lady Priscilla wants to take her meal now because she seems to be losing her appetite and not emptying her lunch plate."

"I am okay," she wanted to giggle at his politeness. Erk always polite. Too polite. Then she joined the others but took a seat away from the campfire, munching her meal slowly. She heard the pegasus knight sisters came toward her. The purple-haired Florina smiled at her while Fiora bowed in courtesy. There were not much women in the army so they became friends naturally.

"Where is Farina?" Priscilla asked, thinking about the dark blue-haired pegasus knight.

"There she is," Fiora turned and pointed the direction behind.

Farina walked with _him _with a lance in her grip. The tomboyish pegasus knight was talking about swordsmanship, while _he _calmly listened.

They both covered in sweats.

"Thanks, Heath!" Farina said it aloud. "It's fun to train with you, really. Pegasus and wyvern are quite alike. You are the member of Bern's special squad, I'm sure our training can give me something in return…"

"Ex-Bernite," he replied.

Farina realized that this accidentally touched his 'wound'. "I… well I am sorry."

"Nevermind," the wyvern rider said firmly. "Pegasus and wyvern are alike, but I suggest you to end our training today."

"What?!"

"Alike doesn't mean _same. _Pegasus is known for its speed and resistance to magic, while wyvern riders fight with full power and impermeable defense. Pegasus, however, is tame while wyvern hungers for blood."

"You don't look like it…"

Heath chuckled. "Well, I am sparring with _you._"

Farina knew what he meant. "Shut up! If you are going to underestimate me because I'm female, try me, I know the best way to kick some guys butt."

"Then let it be as it is."

"Huh?"

"The more a woman knows how to defend herself, the less crime will be."

Farina was quite dazzled by his words—she even didn't realize her feet was stoned until the serene Fiora told her, "you lost, dear sister."

Farina sighed and followed her sister after dropping a "oh, hi! You look pale!" to Priscilla.

Priscilla's mind wandering around somewhere. _He likes an independent woman, _she thought desperately. _And I even don't have the power._

Heath, the deserted Bernite wyvern rider, had gotten her attention. She felt his warmth from the very first time they eyes met. Heath surrendered to Lord Eliwood because he saw women and children belong to the army. Lord Eliwood kindly welcomed him to the army and asked her whether she could check his wound from the previous battle as the mercenaries rage against his 'betrayal'.

She couldn't forget the moment she asked him to put his armor off—the well-toned body, the six-packed belly, and the moment he showed her his back, thus showing some strokes. She gasped and he deeply apologized for the inconvenience. She asked him some questions and they engaged into chit-chat. There she knew that he was a Bernite. There she knew how kind and manly he was…

The first and the last, she thought. She visited him several times. He was so kind and warm, but not anymore. She didn't know what changed him—apparently he avoided her when their eyes met. It was clear for her that he tried to make their contacts as little as possible, but…

"Oh, milady Priscilla!!"

Sain again.

His eyes again.

"What makes you so gloomy, my fairest?"

_His eyes widened. His eyes pierced mine__. Why, Heath… why do you need to be so angry? Do you really hate me? Why do you look at me that way…_

"Nothing…" Priscilla forced herself to smile.

"That's good! Such sad face will ruin your beauty. Well, I found this flower when I sailed the plains," Sain put the white flower on her hands.

"Ehm," Erk interjected, "I hope you don't give her gifts as like, you should put yours in the selection and I would inspect it later. Don't take me wrong, I'm ordered to protect her. She is the precious jade of the House of Caerleon, I hope you can understand."

"Aww man, it's only a flower!"

"Oh Erk, let him, it's just a flower," Priscilla touched the mage's wrist softly.

"If milady says so," Erk nodded.

Priscilla turned her head at the green-haired wyvern rider but he paid no more attention to her. Instead he patted Hyperion's head as if saying some comforting words and cleaned up his lance.

_The unused lance as always…_

Priscilla desperately wanted to call his name and say hi, but what could she do, since she was the precious princess of Caerleon, their beautiful eternal doll everafter.


	4. Part 4: Battling

**A/N: I'm sorry for the late update. I was busy with my exam and… thank Lord it's over now**** (still waiting for the results, though). By the way I wish you guys have a very wonderful holiday especially to those who celebrate Xmas~ by the way I'd like to thank Chaos Hero Mark for the supports, reviews and corrections. I apologize if my English is like, having a 12 years old kid level since it isn't even my first language. I'm trying my best~~~  


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**Part 4****: Battling**

Heath put his lance down and rubbed the sweats dripping off his face. It was a usual afternoon training in Lord Eliwood's army—what made it different with the other training was because they heard that Bern's Royal Army would be attacking them tomorrow. They was still having some time before dinner so Heath, after completing his own training, took a chance to check the rest of the soldiers of lance squad. The low-ranked soldier bowed to him respectfully.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Heath nodded. "Tomorrow we will have a blast. I'm sorry for saying it a _blast _but it actually is. Don't let your guard down. You take the sword-wielding unit; cover the archers so they can take Bern's flying unit down."

"Sir! Yes Sir!"

"… stay away from the flying unit's commander because she is incredibly strong. Don't attack her if she didn't attack you first. I don't mean to scare you, it's not that I don't trust you guys either but if…"

_  
Heath, you have to survive._

The soldiers were waiting for him to finish.

"… if we can survive, why don't we, right. To die in battle is an honorable way to die for every soldier, but, you have to be wise. Knowing the time of giving it, to whom it will be given to. Don't let your emotion sways you that much. Sometimes you have to be ready to abandon your comrade at the battle field. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made… but make sure it isn't in vein."

"Sir…"

"Gentlemen, I wish you luck. To the victory!"

"To the victory!!"

Heath closed his eyes as he heard the sound of swords being sheathed. _At least I want to save some lives, _he thought. "Now gentlemen, if you excuse me," as he walked away he heard people mumbling "he's really something, right?" "I have no doubt he knows our enemy well. He's a Bernite afterall…" "Really? Oh my God, where was I?"

On the way to the camp Heath met Kent who bowed to him in courtesy. "Sir Heath, you have trained them so well. I can feel your words boost their motivation. You have my gratitude."

"I am honored," Heath bowed back.

Kent smiled. "Thanks. Having a wyvern rider is a big help. None of us ever ride those, thus we know nothing of their attacks. At least you light the dark…"

"No, no, please, don't think me that high."

"Heath…"

"Yes?"

"What does it feel, fighting your own—"

"I try not to think about it."

"… I see."

"Good evening… Kent." He left the crimson-armored knight who was looking at him, with his eyes full of questions. He can heard him grunted when they eventually made a quite distance, but in the end he simply ignored it.

_  
That __man, _Ken thought, _tamed but wild… calm but raging inside… what kind of man he is? I could feel both power and tenderness at the same time… _

Heath took off his armor and grabbed a lance near him. The well-toned body moved quietly as the lance swang left and right, upside down. He could feel his muscle tensed. Something in him raged. Something in him hungered for blood. _A Bernite, _Heath thought as he tried control his bloodlust. He was about to strike again when…

"Darling, you are magnificent!"

"The fuck?!" Heath gasped as he saw a purple-haired man came towards. "Legault! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I am actually peeping on you, and—"

"Peeping on me? Give me a good reason or else."

"Well, to be honest there's no particular reason—"

"No? Then be prepared."

"Whoaaaa!" Legault quickly dodged the attack. "Beauteous one, I don't mean any harm! The way you swing the lance, the way you move… oh, red-haired one, I never see such wonderful dance in my life before!"

"You call me _what_?!" Heath glared.

"Heath, by the sky, you're really a man with no sense of humor! It's like you are still willing to tear me into pieces no matter what I say!"

"That's right and you're out of mind."

"Baby, you're too cruel! I only adore you, not much—whoaaaa!" Legault jumped, breathed heavily because Heath's lance hunted for his head. "Save me, save me!"

"Oh, you are quite skillful," Heath watched Legault even closer…

Suddenly he felt something sharp and thin pointed on his neck.

"Turned your head, slowly drop the lance."

Heath growled. Legault laughed so loud. "You better watch your back," he sheathed his knives back. "Bernites sure fit each other," his lips parted into a smile.

The excitement stopped when they saw _Priscilla _came to them. She looked a little awkward meeting _him _who, on the contrary, appraised her from head to toe.

_  
A __very dulcet goddess. _

He quickly turned his eyes to other side when Priscilla looked at him back, probably because she felt being watched by him. He didn't say anything—Priscilla started first.

"Good evening, Gentlemen. The dinner is ready. I hope you guys are hungry."

Her smile was so bright that Heath thought that the sun had risen.

"Sure, milady. That was really something—I mean, the training," Legault answered her politely. Priscilla let out a cheerful laughter and he smiled back.

"I hope I can do something. You boys go out battling everytime the enemy attacks, bring glory and fortune, while I'm helpless, waiting in the backline…"

"No, you're a great help."

That was the first time he spoke to her again. Heath cursed himself for couldn't resist the urge to reply her. He wanted to make her felt respected, he wanted her to feel useful to the army; he wanted her to feel that she is also a part of this army, and…

He wanted to make her feel precious.

Priscilla surprised. Heath, talked to her? Again? Why was that? He kept silent these couple months—he even didn't let her to touch his possessions, but now…

She couldn't help it—she was blushing red.

"So, will you—" Priscilla said to the boys cheerily, thinking this could be her only chance to have a dinner with the man she loved dearly, but Heath's harsh words cut her.

"No. I'm still on my training."

"Oh… but you didn't each much since morning… training needs not only strength but also stamina, so I think…" she stopped. Good, now Heath knew that she was paying attention to him! Or even worse, maybe Heath will, "well, well, what does a little princess know about military training?"

"No. Soldiers eat anything they found. That means I can find something to fill my stomach even without your cooking."

Priscilla felt her heart pierced. _Does that mean that he really wants to trash me out? He __**does **__hate me. He __**hates **__me…_

"Excuse me," she uttered her farewell so softly that she felt her tears ready to come out. "I'm sorry… for disturbing you guys," she ran as fast as she could, feared the boys would be able to see her crying. She turned her head, seeing Heath even didn't bother to after her…

_Heath, just kill me instead!_

"Heath, you stupid beautiful red-haired dude, look at what you have done!" Legault smacked the wyvern rider's head with his clenched fist. "How could you be so cruel to her? What has gotten into you?!"

"Is that all you need to say?"

"Well, lad, she isn't _you. _But take a look over there," Legault pointed his finger, "she's busy serving meals to the others, right after you scolded her as if she's nothing but a useless creature. She acts as if nothing happened. She's fighting against her own will, can't you even realize that?"

"… I know..."

"If you dare enough to see her face, you will know that she's trying her best to…"

"… hold the tears? I know…"

"Heath…" Legault almost gasped seeing Heath's teary eyes. "Heath… Lad, you're…"

"I know how it hurts," he said with a weak voice, "I actually prefer to die than scold her like that. I don't like it. You don't know how much I want to hold her close. How much I want to make sure she's safe, everything she goes out battling or supporting me on the back. You don't know how much I'm willing to trade my soul just to make her happy."

"Heath, I'm sorry," Legault gently tapped his shoulder.

"No. I am sorry." Heath smiled. "I shouldn't be telling you this… but seeing how much my words inflicted her, I couldn't hold any longer."

"But that's not good," Legault said. "You torture yourself. And that, my friend, tortures her at the same time. Someone should stop this madness or you can lose her forever. Even worse, you slowly kill her—kill yourself too, at the same time."

"… nah… I wish the war didn't end."

"Huh?"

"This is crazy, yet sounds egotist, but…" Heath closed his eyes, "if the war ends she sure will be going back to Etruria… and I'm a deserter, how can someone be as lowly as I am permitted to see a princess?"

"Well, that's just maybe. But look, over there," Legault pointed again. Heath saw it. Guy chatted with Priscilla, and Heath could see his sparkling eyes through the distance.

_  
Stupid brat, leave her alone, you're only 15 for God's sake._

"He's making move," Legault burned him again more. Heath watch even closer so he could hear Guy bragging, "the people of Sacae are mostly known for two things—horses and archery. I'm a skillful horseman like Brother Rath too!"

"The people of Sacae have the strongest bond between their fellow tribesmen," Legault explained, knowing Heath would think that Rath was really Guy's big brother.

"… I see."

_  
But you don't need to hold her hand, asshole._

"I'm confident with my agility and speed. I don't have much power like that Bernite wyvern guy, but I know I would have some when I'm turning into a swordmaster," the Sacaen boy spoke confidently. "I dream of becoming the best swordsman on Earth!"

_  
Ok, so you__ will be __**powerless **__before me. Good! Serves you right!_

"Milady Priscilla, rest assured! I will never let anyone to touch you, not even a chance. Should the danger comes, I will gladly protect you even if it costs my life!"

_  
Stupid boy, that's my line._

Priscilla giggled. "Wow, you're really a dependable young fella!"

"At your service, Ma'am," Guy was _about _to take Priscilla's hand when…

When he saw someone did that before him.

"I'm truly sorry with my words before. Please pay no mind, Princess."

Guy gasped. Priscilla couldn't say anything.

"Heath…?"

"I hope milady Priscilla is having a satisfying dinner," Heath bowed respectfully. "I suggest milady takes enough sleep. Tomorrow is the destined day. I will have some of my lancemen assigned to your personal guard—if Lord Eliwood allows me."

_  
I think I've told him not to call me that way, _Priscilla thought. _No. He is not apologizing. He's really trashing me out._

"Thank you so much," Priscilla felt her lips shaking.

"Hey, you, Darling—" Legault, who completely saw the scene, felt that he should lighten Heath's mood up. He took pity of Heath and his collided destiny… because he felt as if seeing his ownself in the youth and he swore he would never let someone be as hopeless as him.

Heath laughed cynically, "it's best to see him failed to kiss her hands."

Suddenly Legault gave him a bear hug that Heath thought he would eventually out of breath. Heath swore he heard a soft "I love you, crazy lad!" when Legault done with the bear hug thingy then joined the others for dinner.


	5. Part 5: Conquering

**A/N: I'm sorry for having written Heath's hair as red in the previous chapter. I was writing a Kiss X Kiss Seirei fanfict which featured the red-haired Akihiro Jinguuji at that time… so yeah, I think my mind slipped. I'm well aware that Heath's hair is actually green. **

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**Part**** 5: Conquering**

Silence surrounded the men as Eliwood began his speech. The sky was glowing orange, but the men who were attending the discussion only felt massive heat. They restlessly glanced to the sky, then to their weapons… finally, to their comrades. Some were dead nervous; some were standing desolately like living statues. Only fear and anxiousness depicted in their eyes. Meanwhile a soldier was bending before a stone with a pen in his hand. His eyes were full of sorrow and Heath could hear the man faintly uttering his thoughts—"My dear Irene, the situation is getting worse. This might be my last letter to you, should anything happen to me, I want you to take care of our darling daughter, raise her with love and care, and…"

_If only I had the time to say goodbye._

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have came this far. There's no turning back… we are at the point of no return," Eliwood said. "Mark and I have planned the strategy for today. The wyvern knights of Bern are stationed in mountains, so take them down when they're flying above the plains…"

"Lure them to the plains," Hector added. "You'll never have the heart to say it, right, Eliwood? I know this sounds crazy, guys, but if the wyvern knights managed to regroup, we are all dead meat—"

"We know their strength are superior," this was Lyn speaking. "Even if we overcome them, our battle still lies ahead. I don't see the reason to waste both weapon and energy here. We have to survive, that's all."

"Thank you, my dear friends," Eliwood smiled at them. "Ladies and Gentlemen, today is one of big, decisive battles. Attack and move prudently, keep yourselves calm and composed so no provocation shall strike your ears."

"Wow. Look at him! Since when that Jellywood grow this much?" Legault lightly shoved his elbow to Heath's waist, but the younger man nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. The man whose words were overheard by Heath still had not finished writing his letter. Somehow Heath could feel sympathy for him. As if reading the wyvern knight, Legault said, "words are best when spoken, lad."

Heath grunted.

"… ergo, that concludes today's meeting. I wish you luck, everybody—"

"Lord Eliwood, if I may?" Heath raised his hand.

Eliwood turned his head. "Sir Heath, isn't it? Is there any problem?"

"I suggest the strongest and most-skilled-in-lance cavaliers and paladins cover the others and get the main role here. We can make use of swordsmen to take part in battle—"

"Are you suggesting the swordsmen to commit suicide?" a red-haired young man with fiery eyes cut him sharply.

Unmoved by the man's pricking remarks, Heath studied his face, confused by his blatant vengeful expression. Now he remembered this man—the one who always eyed him everytime _he eyed Priscilla. _It was Priscilla who made Heath join Eliwood, and she was the first person to address him properly with that gentle voice, "so you're a Bernite, Sir? How may I call you?" Heath was about to raise Priscilla's hand to his lips and returning her courtesy when this red-haired young man grabbed _his hand, _giving him a hard, dominating handshake and stated his name.

"Ah. And you are…"

"Raven," the red-haired young man reply spitefully.

"Raven," Heath repeated. "Raven as in _ravenous_? Forgive me, however I'm new and we are rarely talk."

The ravenous thing really set the table in a roar—especially the "Priscilla Fans Club" and "Anti-Raven Front" dudes! Raven could do nothing to stop Erk's faint smile, the laughed-in-sleeve Guy, the chuckling Legault or even the laugh-like-a-drain Sain. Raven's face reddened. He somehow gained control of his anger, now his finger was pointing at Heath, "you're the new and nearly knocked-dead guy, yes. I do hope your swordmanship isn't as bad as your memory."

"Are you finished yet, Sir Heath?" Eliwood intervened. He too restrained himself from laughing like the other dudes.

"Actually no, my lord," Heath saw this as a golden opportunity to proceed. "My tactics sure will make the cavaliers and paladins worn out. They will need a lot of healing, so I think it's just good to make the swordsmen as their sidekick, thus assisting them in protecting the clerics."

The laughter stopped.

"It's the lancemen who do the charging. Should the enemies launch the second strike, swordsmen can take those weakened enemies down," Heath continued. "Wyvern knights' main weapon is lance but the possibility of them carrying javelins is also huge… it's too dangerous for unarmed clerics to stay behind the lancemen's back… and most clerics are unarmed. For short, the swordsmen will cover the clerics from side. The clerics can rush to the lancemen's aid, and swordsmen can take their place when it's our turn to charge again."

"It sounds okay," said Eliwood.

"You got guts, Bernite dude! Clerics are most vulnerable and it's quite hard to fight and protect at the same time. Harder than that, to defend and protect… yes, make use of every unit, give your all to this battle," Hector countenanced. "And putting mage users and snipers will give us bigger advantage…"

"Mage users, snipers… yes, my lord, you're brilliant," even Mark the tactician rose to his feet. "We combine Lord Eliwood, Lord Hector and Sir Heath's strategy to maximize our force. The best strategy is an adjusting strategy which fit the condition and situation of the battlefield. If a good strategy couldn't be a plan A strategy… we still can make it plan B or C."

"I guess it's okay to give it a try," Lyn approved.

"Can't thank you enough, Lady Lyndis. Thank you for your consideration, Lord Eliwood and Lord Hector," Heath smiled to the three and bowed decorously, "I promise won't let you down."

"… I believe it's the time," said Hector. "Prepare yourself, knights! Lances up! All men, to your position and don't let your guard down!"

"It's the time then…" Heath took his Killer Lance and ran to get his mount. He checked the wyvern's condition once again, fixed the saddle on its back and hopped on. He felt his adrenaline rushed as he tightened his lance grip. He hooked another lance on his back—it was the lance given by his former comrade when escaping Bern.

_You __don't want to fight fellow countrymen like me._

He knew this battle would most likely make him using more than one lance.

_Do you watch me from Heaven?__ Tell me… will a deserter's soul go to Heaven?_

"Are you ready yet? What takes you so long, dressing like a girl? You can't kill anyone with a gown, baby!" Legault's voice didn't give him a chance to grieve. He was needed there—the front line of the battlefield.

"Coming!" he shouted back to answer Legault's call. "Good boy, fly—"

"Heath!"

_Her _voice made him gasp. Not only that, but also worked as an insulin to his adrenaline rush. The fogs in his mind were gone. The red shades were erased and his bloodlust side successfully imprisoned in the depths of his thoughts, sealed with her silhouette. She didn't know how her presence affected him this much. She'd never know…

He felt his grip weakened. His wyvern shrieked in surprise, thus throwing him back to the ground, right in front of his beloved celestial fairy—the flame-haired beauty, Priscilla of Etruria. How shameful, he cursed himself silently.

"Oh, my!" Priscilla exclaimed softly. "Are you okay? Sorry for… startling you…"

He got up and bowed. "Please don't exaggerate it, milady. How may I help you?"

Silence. Always like that—Priscilla dreamed of this man. He trashed her out, now she had the chance to speak face to face, but where did the words go? The more he spoke that way, the more she felt disturbed. She didn't want this! Both of them met in a war, anything could happen in a blink of eye… why were he treating her this way? Didn't he like her?

_What's with that cold shoulder, all of a sudden? It drives me mad!_

"Are you forbidding me from worrying you? Heath…"

"No, no, milady. My safety isn't your concern. It's I who think about your safety—"

_Nice, I said it already. Goddess Fortune, do you hold grudge towards me or WHAT?_

Priscilla's eyes widened. Sparkling and lively, how he wished to make her stay that way. "… do you, Heath…? Do you, truly?"

"There's no knight can turn his back from a fair princess like you, milady Priscilla," he avoided to give her more answer. "I beg you adieu, the men are waiting for me—"

".. including you?" Priscilla's voice was trembling hard… and her body was shaking now. "Why, Heath…? You've been avoiding me like crazy, won't you explain? Does my presence nauseate you? Am I such an eyesore? Do you… hate me?"

"I won't dare to hate you, milady."

"You lie!" tears fell down her cheek. She cupped her mouth with her own hands as if forbade herself from screaming and to resist more tears coming down the eyelids. "Why are you doing this to me? Tell me you hate me. Tell me that I'm such disturbance. If it's what you want, state it clearly so I won't disturb you again…"

"Priscilla…"

That was the first time he called her like that again.

"It will be better if you hate me instead…" his husky voice sounded so painful that she stopped sobbing. "You are an Etrurian noble and I am a deserter—we aren't meant together. I've made a very huge mistake by staining you with my dirty hand. Please forget me, Priscilla. Etrurian nobles are better companions for you. With me you will never meet a field of flowers—it's a field of corpses."

"… do you even know who I truly am?" she countered. "How if I weren't a noble princess as you thought I am, all this time?"

"That won't make any change," Heath replied firmly. "You're too precious to be hurt, Priscilla. I can't allow myself to… just say, stain you. Someone as pure and innocent like you deserve better man than me—" he gasped. What did he say?

"But…" she whispered softly, "what if I… didn't like that man?"

_Oh Priscilla, you're stupid. Isn't that confessing? God, many women said that men are dumb—please, just this time, make the women right._

Heath wasn't that naïve about women. Priscilla's face was blushing crimson. She spoke to him softly, her eyes didn't dare to meet his eyes and she was timorously standing before him, readying herself to hear him replying her.

_Lord, only __You who know how I yearn for her so._

"I'm sure you will find one," he forced himself to answer her stoically. "Besides… after this war ends, I plan to return to Bern. Should anything bad fall before me… well, I don't want you to face the same fate as well."

_Since when I'm good at playing poker face?_

"I'm sorry, Priscilla," he took her hand to his lips, fighting his urge to kiss it passionately. He feared he couldn't control himself if she continued to push him more. He didn't want to make her his… no, not now, not here, not at this rate. Not like this. "This will be the last time I take your hands. Now—"

"… deserting again, huh? Once a deserter, still a deserter forever."

"… Raven." Heath eyed him warily.

"Making move, Sir?" Raven mocked him. "Leave her alone! I know we can't trust you! A beautiful flower is sure having too much bees around, am I right?"

"Stop that, Raven, your statement is infuriating. He doesn't mean any harm," Priscilla protested. "I—I was going to ask him whether he needed my assistance in healing."

"I asked that Hector to assign me as your guard… that Etrurian mage is coming with us too," Raven said firmly. "Perhaps our wyvern knight is a cowardice who doesn't dare to meet up his fellow Bernite wyvern knights?"

"That is absolutely incorrect," Heath felt his anger boiled… and another adrenaline rush combined with his Bern's special military training echoing the order to kill Raven at an instant.

"At least you're better than the other boys—what's their name again? Ah, that Sacaen boy, Guy. And that wacky womanizer, Sain. So far none of them as brave as you are. What are you, Bernite? You're a deserter, you betrayed your country. Now giving an idea to today's strategy, how can we know you're not feeding us to those ruthless wyvern knights? And now… you even exploit Priscilla's kindness to you… let me tell you, you're a gruesome sight to a fair maiden like her!" Raven condemned him blatantly. "I ask you, Bernite, what are you?"

"Raven—" Priscilla pleaded.

"No, Priscilla, hear me—"

"Raven, please…"

"What, Bernite? Can't answer, can you!" Raven spat.

Heath's eyes scanning the two red-haired persons in front of him. First Priscilla, then Raven. Priscilla's teary eyes, Raven's piercing eyes. He took a deep breath and answered, "and what are you, Raven?"

Heath swore he saw sparkling stars in Priscilla's eyes. He knew his actions might lead to fist fight… or even another round of duel, but he didn't care. This was the first time he conquered his inferiority… and he was glad to be able to defend the woman he loved.

"I—who do you think you're talking to? I'm Raymond—NO! I mean, I'm not the person you know, the truth is—"

"Yes?" he waited gallantly.

_Damn that man! No one should know that I'm Raymond—Priscilla's brother._

"I've known her for long, and also her personal guard," finally Raven found what he thought as a suitable word to reply Heath.

"Personal guard. For today, I presume?"

"You… son of a—nevermind. I pardon you today, Bernite! Next time I won't be so forgiving… take care of your own business… and remember, your business isn't including her!" Raven clenched his fist, took Priscilla's arm with him and leave.

"You too," replied Heath calmly. Raven turned his head, his eyes filled with anger and Heath quickly added, "I mean about taking care one's respective business."

He hopped on to his wyvern once again, screening the area below him and shaking his head.

_Ridiculous, _he thought.

He saw Raven and Priscilla walking, envied how close the two together and puzzled with Raven's demeanor. What did he try to say? He wasn't himself—so he wasn't this Raven that everyone knew?

The Pegasus sisters waved their hands when seeing him. "Did you forget something?" asked Farina.

"Oh, Sir Heath just a prudent soldier that he cautiously observed the land to determine whether there are threats or not, isn't it right, Sir Heath?" Fiora said naively.

"Sounds like a paranoid," Farina said spontaneously.

_You know, Farina, I__'m thinking of throwing this lance to Raven's head... ah, forget it._

* * *

As Eliwood expected, this battle was indeed, a though one. Wyvern knights came and go, launching deadly attacks. Death from above. The men were stricken by panicky and started to move helter-skelter. Lyn unsheathed her sword, glanced at Rath who readied himself to deliver a single deadly shot. "How many arrows are left?"

The stoic Silver Wolf's son only replied, "can you continue?"

"I _will_ continue fighting!" Lyn answered. Instead of responding her, Rath circled his right hand around her waist and lifted her up to his horse's back.

"You can continue from here."

Lyn smiled and squeezed his arms softly.

From above, wyvern knights gave Florina creeps. They were strong, their defense was formidable, thus making her felt so small before them. She was cornered with three wyvern knights and no ray of hope was seen! "I get you, little missy!" one of them laughed violently at her and swung his lance mercilessly.

"Noooo!" Florina shrieked. Men. Violent men, to be precise. The least thing she wanted to meet on Earth!

A hand axe successfully countered the violent wyvern knight's attack and saved Florina's life. She managed to break the wyvern knights' siege and dived her pegasus to the ground. The rest two wyvern knights were chasing her down, only to get some Wolf Beil's smacks on their head. "No dreaming on battlefield!" Hector shouted at her. But it didn't last long because he patted the palefaced Florina gently and said, "now that's kind of men who deserve some of your hatred."

"Bring me more Mend Staff!" Priscilla shouted.

"Aye, Princess!" Merlinus, almost trapped on a perilous situation, were awkwardly searching his carriage. A wyvern knights flew at a low altitude, aiming for Merlinus' back but Raven's sword countered him.

"Go, give that staff to Priscilla," said Raven rigorously. "It's nice having a Killing Edge," he parried the knight's iron lance and stroke a deadly hit back.

Just when everyone thought that they had given anything to survive this battle, Fiora bore bad news: reinforcements! More wyvern knights were floating in the air, giving so much terror to the weary Eliwood's army. Both she and Farina withdrew because staying longer would mean certain death. The sky was filled with wyverns and it was hard for the pegasi to find and escape.

What about our wyvern knight—Heath?

He was about to charge again when Farina shouted, "withdraw! We can't lose you here, Heath, it's Lord Hector's order!"

"… tch," Heath glanced at his wounded arms, bit his own lips and ordered his wyvern to land. Eliwood and Hector were waiting for him.

"You need healing," said Eliwood.

"There's no need," Heath answered stubbornly. "One scratch won't kill me, my lord."

Hector didn't budge. "Mark, get Priscilla here at once!"

"Yes, my lord," Mark replied obediently.

"I said no," Heath quickly shouted back.

"Huh?" Mark didn't continue his pace.

"My lord, I'll try to speak with the commander," Heath's words staggered the lords. "I'll see what I can do. The others have suffered this much… and I can't keep seeking shelter in your army."

"But you're fighting with us," Eliwood disagreed.

"I'm going to have a talk with the commander. Allow me to try, my lord—"

"I daresay it's fruitless, Sir Heath," Eliwood defended. "What will you do to make them leave the battlefield? They won't stop until we're all devastated. I honestly think you don't have such bargaining position, what will you offer them in return?"

"They can have _me_."

"What?"

"My lord Eliwood, there's no way I'll feed someone as good as you are to Bernite ferocious wyvern knights. I was on the run when you accepted me in the army, so I guess it's my time to pay you back," Heath smiled… and shook Eliwood's hand warmly. "Thank you for your kindness, milord, especially for giving me the chance to join you here."

_And for giving me the chance to meet my love._

He didn't listen to anything; he simply flew high and met the commander who was observing the battle from a hilltop. A wyvern lord, he thought. He gulped. Eliwood was right about 'the point of no return'. Seeing Eliwood's soldier came closer, the wyvern lord readied his position and grabbed his spear. "So!" he yelled, "at last, someone who really want to die. Come, I shall feed you to my wyvern!"

His voice startled Heath… because it's a _she. _A female commander who was clad in red suit, holding a mighty spear and wearing a high-heeled black boot, none other than… "Commander Vaida? Is it you, Commander?"

The commander was also stricken by surprise. "Heath? Is that you, boy? So you're alive, kid!"

"Commander…" every buried memories broke their grave and roamed Heath's head. The escape. The battle. The victims. The comrades. The lance. On the contrary he couldn't find any words to say. Memories rose from the depths, words sank to the depths.

"You're with Eliwood, boy?" asked Vaida fiercely.

"Please come with me, Commander," Heath pleaded. "The things aren't the same anymore. Lord Eliwood will make the the things better, I trust him. It's not too late to change, Commander, please…"

"What is this nonsense?"

"Please, Commander, let us through!"

"I'm not your commander anymore," Vaida responded coldly. "If you're with Eliwood… then taste my lance!"

* * *

"One man down! One man down!"

"Who?"

"It's that Bernite!"

"What?"

_Where am I…?_

"Clerics! Where are the clerics?"

_My head hurts…_

"Someone's badly wounded!"

_Did we make it?_

"I'm coming!"

_This voice…_

"Oh my Lord. Oh my Lord! How severe the wounds are!"

_Don't…_

"Are you okay? Your face turns white."

_I can't move…_

"It's… okay. I will handle this!"

_Stop. Don't. __No…_

"N… No, please… not… you…"

"He said something…"

"What did he say? It's not… a dying message, right…?"

"… I believe he said 'no'…"

"… A 'no'? I… I can't believe this…"

"Priscilla? Priscilla, what's wrong?"

"I… think I'm gonna leave him in your care, Serra."

_Praise the Lord._

"Oh, my, Sir Heath, don't you know almost all men in this army worship her? You're turning her down like that, so wise of you to be able to see the real beauty that lies before your eyes," Serra activated her 'Serra mode' again. She lifted her staff, gracefully making a light white ray shining above him.

"Thank you," Heath murmured his gratitude.

"Feeling better?" Serra helped him to sit. "Actually it was Priscilla who made to stop the bleeding. I can say I'm only continuing her work when she left you in my care."

_Her again. I ower her so much._

"You're doing well, Lady Serra," Heath spared a smile for this purple-haired healer.

"Absolutely! I heard you charged the commander alone, Sir Heath? My, my, what an asset to the army you are! Unlike the other brash boys you're an exception. So polite and address a lady with her proper title!" level 2 of Serra mode… again.

_The 'scared lance' is undamaged. Good._

"Dinner, lad?" a tap on his shoulder rescued Heath from listening Serra jabbered. "You're one crazy dude, aren't you. You were unconscious for three hours. After striking you down, the commander left the battlefield as if something bemused him."

"… bemused _her_," Heath corrected.

"A female, huh? You really hit the spot."

"Shut up," Heath grunted. "I think I'm not hungry…"

"You're only showing me how foolish yourself if you refuse to eat because of avoiding that red-haired lassie's cooking, lad. Grow up, everyone has their own way of living. You too, find one!"

"Talk is cheap," Heath snorted.

"Have you thought about her?" Legault mocked him.

"Thousand times! Happy now?" Heath replied sharply.

"I mean seeing things from her perspective."

"Wha—"

"Military teaches you to master the art of handling weapons, but life teaches you the art of handling people, lad. Sadly we're military men and we have no place to go."

"I can't believe an ex-Black Fang pity me."

"Pitying you? Ha! Don't get me wrong. You are deadly but stubborn and strict, or in other word, stupid."

"I think I get it," Heath smiled. He was about to stand up when Raven walked up. Heath was used to his unfriendly demeanor, but this time there was something strange with the red-haired guy.

"Where's Priscilla?"

_Her again. I guess I can't even run, huh?_

"I beg your pardon?"

"So she's not here? Very well, I guess this time I can trust the word of—" there was visible red shades on Raven's cheeks, "—a companion."

"Huh?" Heath gave him that puzzled look.

"You're not a traitor to this army."

"I think he's not a traitor at all," Legault smiled. Sometimes Heath wished to be able to utter "I love you!" as free as Legault, without the need of worrying the gender of the hearer.

* * *

Priscilla wiped her tears with a silk handkerchief. She was alone in the forest after parting not so dearly with Raven—of course, Raven wouldn't let her wander the forest all alone. She had a fight with Raven.

Raven scolded her for being too careless—when she heard Heath was down, she rushed to his side without thinking of anything else. A soldier was able to land a light wound on her leg before Raven's sword silenced the person forever.

Raven called her _little lady. _And he ordered her not to trust anyone and never let her feelings swayed her. She ought to remember that she was a noblewoman from Etruria, et cetera, et cetera… the least thing she didn't want to hear from her dear brother. And how she disliked him for treating her like a kid!

What did Raven know about loving? Anger resided on his brother's veins. Raven wouldn't know. And she couldn't believe what he said about her dear Heath—

"He's dangerous and ferocious. I sense bloodlust in him."

"You too go berserk in every battle!"

"I know. That's why!"

"What do you know about loving, Raymond?"

"What do you know about men, Priscilla? We have lost the entire family… till the day I avenge our parents, please stay safe, Priscilla, after this battle I can't be with you… so let me play my elder brother role—protecting his sister, that is. A lot of nobles are worthy of your hand, more than him."

"Nobles suck sometimes."

"Sometimes. At least you'll have a fine living with a nobleman."

She defended the man she loved in front of her ultraprotective brother… but even in his almost-dying message, he ditched her. Actually Priscilla didn't want to let Serra healed Heath… and for the very first time she wanted to yelled "stupid!" at the wyvern knight for flattering Serra that much.

_He needs __only your magic, Serra, don't get too high._

She stopped.

_I must be the stupid one here. __I dislike seeing Serra talk to him, and why is that? Perhaps Raymond is right…_

"Well, well, boys. Look what we have here."

Priscilla quickly stood up. A group of armed men clad in breastplate was approaching her from the north, eyeing her like a tiger found its prey.

_Bandits. Oh shit._

"What brings you here, lassie?"

"Look at her clothes… she's not your everyday girl!" they roared with laughter.

"Excuse me," said Priscilla coldly, but a man holding a sword in his grip didn't let her pass. "I said excuse me, Sir, for you're blocking my way."

"Such sassy lassie," the man smirked. He scanned Priscilla from head to toe and grabbed an emblem clipped to a lace on her collarbone. "Etruria," he murmured as if seeing something unbelievable.

"Give it back," Priscilla's cheeks reddened with temper.

"Etrurian noblewoman all alone in a forest… such big fish we caught today!" the men grabbed her ams and pinned it to her back.

"Let me go, you dolt!" she screamed.

"Shut up, pesky little noble! Show her what we're made of! Hey, who got ropes? Let's show her what we're made of!"

"No, leave me alone! Don't come any closer!" she struggled as hard as she could but to no avail. The men are too strong for her. Just when she thought that this was the end, a hard jab stroke the man who was about to touch her, right on the jaw.

"What about showing me instead?"

The voice made Priscilla stop struggling for a moment. It was him, her dear wyvern knight with his special lance, without any armor. Bandages wrapped his arms; some scratches ruined his beautiful face but he stood tall and unmoved!

"… Heath…?"

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Let her go," Heath walked towards them.

"An injured youngman against the five of us? Ha! Curse your fate for coming before me, laddie!" the sword-wielding man attacked him front but he dodged the attack easily. He landed a hard kick right on the man's stomach and took his sword to counter another attack launched by an axe-wielder bandit. When the axe-wielder was about to strike him again, Heath swung the sword to disarm him. The axe-wielder swore a dirty word and Heath readied himself with the sword.

He felt it again—adrenaline rush. He knew this was bloodlust—he hungered for their blood, and he would make a red rain fantasy come true! But Priscilla's voice pierced his ears when he was about to deliver a fatal strike…

"Heath, how's your wound?"

_She's still so kind and loving even if I trash her._

Another insulin shot which made him whirled the sword and only using the hilt to smack the axe-wielder. The rest of the men attacked him at the same time and he reflexively swung his precious lance to the tree, causing them to fall down unconscious.

_Now which person dares to touch her like that? I shall cut his __hand—_

"Heath, you… you saved me…"

His anger was gone and replaced by dismay.

"Are you hurt? They didn't do anything, did they?"

Priscilla shook her head. Tears were falling down her cheek… but her eyes were beaming with joy. "I never thought you would come."

"I made it in time," he smiled. "I'm sorry, Priscilla. Even I mean in the good way, I've been so cruel to you that I disregard your feeling…"

"No, that's okay… I'm glad that you're… safe," her soft sobs pierced his eyes.

"Look at me. A pathetic man who can only make a woman he loves crying hard." Heath said repentantly. "Priscilla, I—"

Her eyes filled with beaming stars, brighter than any ray. "You said love," she murmured. "Is it me or… you really mean it?"

He stood before her awkwardly. "… I said it, huh?"

"Yes!" Priscilla answered gleefully.

"It's no surprise that a beautiful flower is surrounded by many bees," Heath made a face.

"Dear knight," Priscilla giggled, "are you stating your jealousy towards Raymond?"

"So there's another, huh? This Raymond—who is he? May I kill him?"

Priscilla let out a sweet laugh. "No. You may not, this is an order."

He made the face again and replied sourly, "as you wish, my lady."

"Because he's my brother…"

"Your… what?"

"Didn't I tell you before, how if I weren't this kind of person you think I am," Priscilla responded. She took his arms and whispered, "have you seen Raven trying to get my attention or something? Have you seen him trying hard to impress me?"

"… no, milady," Heath felt as if being interrogated by his commander. "So…"

"So you're using that precious lance again," she cut him softly. "You always take two lances to every battle you're in, but you hardly use that steel lance."

"A friend gave me when we were escaping Bern. He sacrificed his life for me," Heath lost in the thought. "Since that time I swear I won't ever use this lance again. Everytime I touch this lance, the memories of that fated day are always depicted in my head. I… I think I'm seeking a way to atone my sins."

"I'm sorry…" Priscilla whispered. "Because of me, you—"

"No, Priscilla. Meeting you, fighting for you, defending you… make me realize that one should conquer his fears. I'm an egotist, I think, I'm not grateful to the chances are given to me… as for this lance… well, it helped me to rescue a damsel in distress without killing the villain," Heath smiled to erase Priscilla's worries.

_Is it what you want, Isaac, Belminade, Lachius…? Is it what you mean? That I have to survive. Yes, that must be it. Survive means conquering your fears and live the life to the fullest… right? Please watch over me from there…_

"Oh Heath…" Priscilla wept again. "I didn't know you have suffered this long…"

"Me too," he circled his arms around her shoulders. "I'm once a knight in distress—"

"… if only time could stop."

Heath smiled again. He gently lifted Priscilla's face with his fingers, bowed himself to reach her lips. He touched her hair and silenced her with his own lips. He could feel her body trembling in his arms. She looked puzzled, not ready for his 'surprise attack'. But then she kissed him back. Quite demanding, and now it was his turn to be stricken with surprise that she wasn't as naïve as he thought.

"I want you," he said dauntlessly.

"If only time could stop—"

"Ssh. Don't say that again—"

"But…"

"We're stopping the time now, aren't we?" he responded as she threw herself in his hugs. He knew she was crying again… for happiness. Heath gazed at the night sky, for the very first time, he felt content of his life now. Why regret? Legault was right—words were best when spoken. Lord, please allow me to have this moment... he thought as he closed his eyes.

_If __no one is giving you the chance, make it yourself._

**-The End-**_  
_


End file.
